


Over and Over

by orangesandlemons



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangesandlemons/pseuds/orangesandlemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written to prompt "groundhog day" in sweetjamielee's Everything Changes 2014 TGW Ficathon. Sort of a fix-it fic for, well, everything since the end of season 2. Sequel to "Strangers," but can be read on its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over and Over

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to write this after I reread "Strangers" and could not even deal with the mega-angst I had created. :P This does have some angst, but I hope the ending will help to rectify things. Also, I noted that this is a sequel to "Strangers," but it really probably should be considered the third part of a trilogy that started with "Trust." It's a ficathon trilogy! When I never even wrote for the fandom before! Sweetjamielee, you are magic!

For months after Will died, Kalinda felt like she and Alicia were trapped in a strange X-rated version of the movie _Groundhog Day._ Several nights a week Alicia showed up at Kalinda's apartment, and she and Kalinda would fuck, and then Alicia would go home. Everything happened at Alicia's instigation, and what Alicia wanted seemed to be the same every time – pure sex with no emotion whatsoever. Sometimes Kalinda went down on her, sometimes she fucked her with a hand or a dildo, but the release was always the same, and so was Alicia's reaction. She left. 

In some ways, it was a terrible day to be trapped in. But when Kalinda considered – this, or the years' worth of nights when Alicia hadn't been here at all – she knew in a heartbeat which she'd pick. 

The only times anything was even the slightest bit different was when Alicia was pretending Kalinda was Will, with the help of a realistic dildo and closed eyes. Those were the only times Alicia would let Kalinda be on top of her; the rest of the time she wanted Kalinda far away, down between her legs, where Alicia wouldn't have to see her if she opened her eyes. That was brutal, but so were the nights when Kalinda became a Will stand-in. In some ways those nights were even worse, because they gave Kalinda a little hope – how in the world could she possibly be any kind of a Will stand-in, no matter how realistic the dildo? If Alicia was choosing her to play that role instead of a man, did that mean she was starting to care again? – and the hope was harder to deal with than the distance. Because it was always shot down. Alicia would show up another day and they would go through the same thing and then Alicia would go home, leaving Kalinda mired in confusion and a bone-deep sadness tequila wouldn't kill. 

When things started changing, the changes were tiny, and they occurred over months. Most of the time Kalinda thought she was imagining them, desperate for some kind of connection, any kind. The nights when Alicia seemed a little more pliant, a little more relaxed, moving more fluidly with Kalinda's rhythm. The time her hand brushed past Kalinda's hair as Kalinda went down on her -- not quite lingering, but almost. And the time they made eye contact, when Alicia opened her eyes and looked straight at Kalinda as she leaned between Alicia's legs, her eyes wide and a little dazzled, but fully aware, fully recognizing Kalinda. That was big. 

It was probably why Alicia started insisting on Kalinda fucking her from behind after that. 

Kalinda knew that was a position Alicia had liked sometimes, back in the day. But she also knew that this wasn't about that. Alicia was taking the last scrap of anything personal that she'd left Kalinda – letting Kalinda see her face. Kalinda could let her gaze trace the long lines of Alicia's back and limbs, the tiny, barely-hinted commas of shadow under each of her vertebrae, the subtle swell of her ass, the disordered spill of dark hair across the pillow – but it wasn't remotely the same, and Alicia knew it. Kalinda was beginning to feel like a sex robot. She was drinking a lot more after Alicia left each time. She was beginning to wonder how much longer she could do this. 

Then Alicia called out her name one night, and everything changed. 

Kalinda had thought things were getting a little better with Alicia, feeling her respond more naturally to Kalinda's touch instead of in jerky, seemingly-joyless thrusts, but she'd told herself she was imagining it. When her name came it was soft, half-muffled in a pillow – “Oh, God, Kalinda --” and she thought she'd imagined that. She was so shocked she stopped altogether. “What?” she said, ridiculously. 

Alicia let out a soft moan of frustration. “If that's what's going to happen when I do that, I won't be doing it again,” she said, sounding much more like the Alicia Kalinda had gotten used to. 

Kalinda started up again immediately, throwing new energy into it to make up for the lapse. But she let her other hand stray tentatively over Alicia's back, stroking gently. She was tense, ready for Alicia to buck her hips and throw her hand off, but Alicia didn't. At least, by the time her hips were bucking, that wasn't the point. 

Slowly, slowly, things got better. Alicia became gentler, more like the Alicia Kalinda had known years ago. She stopped insisting on being taken from behind, started letting Kalinda see her face again – a face that was more mobile, more involved, more _real_ than anything Kalinda had seen for months. 

One night, just as they finished, just as she finished coming, Alicia pulled Kalinda in for a long kiss. Then, as if embarrassed, she left even faster than usual. For once, Kalinda was glad for it, because she didn't want Alicia to see her cry. 

The next time Alicia showed up, she was carrying a bottle of wine – Kalinda's favorite kind. They drank it on Kalinda's couch, the first time Alicia had set foot in any room in Kalinda's apartment except the bedroom in years. “I'm sorry,” Alicia said. 

“For what?” Kalinda asked, thinking, _Which part?_

“For all of it. I know I've been hard on you.” 

“Yeah,” Kalinda said. “You have.” 

“It's been... part of it's been Will. I couldn't... after that, I just didn't know how to...”

“Part of it,” Kalinda cut in. “But you only came back in the first place because of Will.” 

Alicia sighed. “Yeah.” 

“You left years ago, Alicia. And --” Suddenly a lot of stuff was tumbling out that Kalinda hadn't meant to say. “I don't know if you have any idea how badly you hurt me then. You just shut me down, totally closed me out --”

“You slept with my husband!”

Kalinda cut herself off, huffed out a sharp breath. “Let's not do this. Please.”

The silence stretched on for an impossible moment. “Let's not,” Alicia agreed finally. 

Kalinda looked off into the distance over Alicia's shoulder, fighting for composure. For a second there she'd thought she'd ruined everything for good. 

“Look. The Peter thing... God, Kalinda, I don't even know how much I care about him anymore.” Kalinda glanced back at her, surprised; she'd gone back and forth mentally about how much she thought Peter meant to Alicia, but she'd never expected Alicia to admit to not caring. “I spent so much time beating up on you about that, and when I finally stopped to think...”

Alicia trailed off. Kalinda stayed poker-faced, willing her to continue. 

Alicia took a deep breath, staring at the beautiful, implacable face beside her. “Kalinda, I... don't think putting him before you was the right choice.” 

Kalinda cut her eyes down sharply, but this time she couldn't hide her tears. 

“Oh, God.” Alicia reached over, pulled Kalinda close. “I didn't mean to –“

Kalinda stopped Alicia's speech with a kiss. Alicia responded immediately, trying to kiss away Kalinda's tears, but they were raining down too fast now for her to manage it. They moved quickly from kissing to making love, sliding off the couch in their haste – the first time they'd made love in three years.

Afterward, Alicia found they were tangled up on the floor, her head resting on Kalinda's breast, her lips still wet with Kalinda's come. “Thank you,” she said softly. 

Kalinda let out a low laugh. “Thank _you._ ”

“No, I mean it. For... hanging in there. All this time.”

“It's not really something I could help,” Kalinda said. 

Alicia kissed her cheek. “That's more open than I expect you to be most of the time, Kalinda.”

“Oh, sure. Get me within ten seconds of an orgasm, I'll be as open as you want.”

“Let's see.” Teasingly, Alicia shot her hand down between Kalinda's legs; Kalinda jerked, let out a strangled cry. “I think I owe you this,” Alicia said, beginning to move her hand slowly. “More of it. I think I owe you a lot from the last few months.”

Kalinda closed her eyes, trying to breathe deep, keep this going as long as possible. “If you say so.” 

“The bedroom?”

“If that's what you want.”

“Uh-uh. This time we're doing what you want.” 

_I love you,_ Kalinda thought. “The bedroom,” she agreed. 

That night Alicia stayed over, forgetting to call Peter. In the morning Kalinda felt as though she'd woken up into a dream, or else woken up into three years ago. She wasn't sure she could be any happier than she was at that moment. But she suspected Alicia was going to try to come up with some competition as they went forward.


End file.
